Rose Thorns
by Eponizzle
Summary: Aladdin is dead; Jasmine is mad; Mozenrath had better watch his back, 'cause Agrabah's got a new hero.
1. Chapter One

Chapter One  
  
  
  
  
  
The rain fell in sheets, hiding everything in a light, silvery veil. Jasmine stared at the deep hole before her with empty eyes. Pain ebbed at her heart and the freezing rain chilled her to the marrow. Her clothing had long since soaked through, and her black gown felt a hundred times heavier than it had when it was dry. But it wasn't nearly as heavy as her aching heart. A single tear slipped from her eye to mingle with the raindrops sliding down her cheeks.  
  
  
  
  
  
Jasmine continued to stare at the hole as the priest said a prayer for the dead man's soul. She closed her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. It felt like those few, infrequent breaths were all that was keeping her from slipping into insanity.  
  
  
  
  
  
She opened her eyes and watched as Aladdin's casket was lowered into the sand and mud earth. It was all she could bear to keep from breaking down. She kept the words her father had told her so long ago in the front of her mind, "We may feel pain, but as royalty, our people must never know." Jasmine repeated them to herself over and over again as her lover's body-- and all her hopes and dreams--were buried in the desert sand.  
  
  
  
  
  
The priest raised his hands over the grave and called out one last prayer to the heavens before filling in the large hole. Jasmine's heart ached more with every shovelful of dirt thrown into Aladdin's grave, and she clenched her eyes shut in order to block the sight from her mind. Her hand tightened its grip around a rose she held in her fist. The thorns cut through the princess' tender flesh, and she nearly cried out in pain. She looked down at her hand and saw the blood seeping from the cuts in her palm. Yet the pain was not in her hand, but in her heart.  
  
  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
  
  
After the funeral Jasmine walked mechanically up the stairs and down seemingly endless corridors to her chambers in Agrabah's royal palace. With every step bits of the dull pain in her heart turned to anger, and by the time the princess reached her room, she was livid.  
  
  
  
  
  
As she stepped into her chambers she felt the anger rising within her, ready to explode. Anger at Aladdin for leaving her, anger at the Genie for not being able to help her beloved, and anger at herself for being the bait in Mozenrath's trap.  
  
  
  
  
  
Mozenrath. Jasmine felt a surge of raw emotion at the thought of the sorcerer. The realization struck her suddenly with the force of a hundred knives in her heart. Mozenrath had killed Aladdin; it was he who was to blame. After all those years the evil sorcerer had finally accomplished his most unattainable goal and gotten his worst enemy out of the way.  
  
  
  
  
  
Suddenly, it was as if a bright light had been turned on in her head. Horror and anger registered in her brain as she realized how - with his arch enemy out of the way - there was nothing to stop Mozenrath from taking over Agrabah.  
  
  
  
  
  
Jasmine turned her head and studied her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were black and empty with pain, her hair stringy and disheveled, her mouth twisted into a terrible grimace, and tear marks streaked down her cheeks. She looked at herself with hatred building in her heart, hatred for Mozenrath. In an instant she had made up her mind. There was only one person in the world who could save Agrabah from Mozenrath, and that was the one person who knew its former hero best.  
  
  
  
Continued. 


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
By the time the sun had risen the next morning, Jasmine was long gone. She had crept out of the palace very early that morning, determined to do what needed to be done. Before she had left the palace, she had crept quietly into her father's room and watched the Sultan as he slept. She had debated waking him to say good-bye, but she knew in her heart that she mustn't do so. Waking the Sultan and telling him of her plans would only force him to make her stay. The princess knew she had to what it was she had decided - there was no turning back. Agrabah needed a hero.  
  
  
  
  
  
Silently, the princess made her way down the empty streets of the marketplace. It was much too early for anyone to be up, but she still feared discovery. As she crept quietly down the streets and alleyways she was careful not to make too much noise. Waking anyone living in the city could mean discovery, and she couldn't be discovered for her plan to work.  
  
  
  
  
  
As Jasmine came to a particular ally, she glanced up and down the streets, checking one last time for onlookers. Seeing no one, she ran down the narrow ally until she reached a ladder leaning against the side of one of the buildings. She climbed up the shabby, unsteady ladder quickly and with purpose--being caught at this stage would be disastrous. She reached the roof of the building and began to make her way from rooftop to rooftop until she at last reached the one she had been searching for.  
  
  
  
  
  
She took the stairs in the grubby, abandoned structure two at a time, until she reached the top floor. Jasmine stopped suddenly and looked around, pain growing in her heart with every glance. Each object in the room triggered a memory, and she felt suddenly very lost. The feeling didn't last very long, though. She'd been in Aladdin's hovel enough times before to know it as well as she knew the palace.  
  
  
  
  
  
She walked slowly over to the window and pulled back the curtain hiding the sky from view. She wasn't surprised to see that it was still dark; she had left very early and moved quickly. Suddenly Jasmine felt overcome by fatigue. She had gotten very little sleep since Aladdin's death nearly a week before, and that lack of rest was catching up to her.  
  
  
  
  
  
She let herself fall to the bed beside the window, and willed herself to sleep. Just as she slipped into unconscious dreaming, she heard a voice. The princess was too tired to hear the words as she verged on being asleep, but she swore she felt a familiar hand caressing her face as whoever it was spoke softly in her ear.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
To Be Continued. 


End file.
